Let's Get Ugly
by singing-along
Summary: Severus knows that he and Lily are not meant to be. He just does not let himself think about it, much. Oneshot.


Characters, events and places belong to JK Rowling. The lyrics are from "Let's Get Ugly" by The Wanted.

—

 _Will the angel or the devil die in ecstasy_

 _There's something coming over you come over me_

—

The first-year has already sustained a split lip and several bruises by the time Severus reaches the scene. He is spitting like a cat and grappling against the arm of the bigger Gryffindor boy who is holding him in a headlock, cursing. Both their wands lie forgotten five feet away.

 _Vanish my quill one more time during a Transfiguration test and I'll — I'll —_

He chokes as the Gryffindor boy throws his grip off, wheels around, and slams his fist into the side of his face. His meaty hands seize him and push him against the wall.

 _Protego!_

The spell hits the Gryffindor squarely in the shoulder, knocking him backward and onto the ground. The smaller Slytherin massages his throat and spins round to face Severus. Both their faces are pale. Members of rival houses are one thing, but Prefects are something else altogether.

There is a string of purple bruises on the boy's arm, and his neck is red and raw. The Gryffindor sustains a black eye, bleeding nose and a bruised cheek. Bloody first years, bruised and bloody and still staring daggers at each other over a _quill_ —

 _You may be new, but I'll have you know that trying to kill other students is definitely against the rules. I'll have to take you to your Heads of House. Move along._

—

He tells Lily about it later (slightly open mouth, emerald eyes, what lashes, even for a teenage girl) when they're making their nightly Prefect rounds together along the the third-floor Charms corridor. Lily makes a noncommittal grunting sound at the back of her throat, shrugs, and tell Severus not to be surprised. _It's not that first years themselves are getting more violent, it's that their seniors are, and what are prefects supposed to do, anyway? Stand up to the crowd and preach morality? Well,_ Lily summarises a little sadly, _we've tried_.

Lily laughs, all angles, lips quirked into softly curved lines, a little sarcastic.

 _How's your day been?_

Silence falls and Lily lapses into terrible politeness. It hasn't always been like this, hasn't always been just a little too strained between them, Severus realises with a twinge. He supposes that he can bear with it though, for now. The empty corridors are open in front of them, striped with columns and flickering yellow light. Lily waits, cocks her head to one side, bright red hair fluttering over her shoulders.

 _Fine_ , Severus concedes. _Fine like Potter's hair after Herbology, he adds._

Lily chuckles again. She talks about a Potions competition she's thinking of entering, and about ethical issues related to the use of Veritaserum. A frown creases her eyebrows in the way it does when she is thinking, though Severus doesn't think she is aware. _Consent matters, but if consent can be given, why the urgent need for the potion in the first place? Threats seem to be the issue. People are so scared of others finding out the truth…_ She stares contemplatively ahead, still with that frown, and Severus cracks a laugh.

 _Are you ever this philosophical around other people?_ He shakes her head at Lily's snort ( _as if you don't share a passion for the humanities yourself. The least you can do is feel special_.) and agrees on the idea of threats.

The castle is beautiful at night. Tall shadows melt into each other on the walls, cast by the fitful starlight from outside. Out here in the open, wide corridors, Lily telling him about an Astronomy project she is interested in taking part in, Severus feels oddly empowered.

—

 _I told you you need a break._

Severus' eyes swim open. The world swirls in candlelight, words crawling over a page like ants, and Lily's concerned expression staring down at him, Lily's hand, cautious, on the top of his back.

Somewhere along the way of goblin wars — brutal, bloody as they are — he's managed to fall asleep. The fire is burning low, and with a jolt to the stomach, he wonders how much time has passed. The essay is due in two days, for Merlin's sake. He's never been like this, has always managed his academic workload well.

 _This is part of the Annual History Challenge, isn't it? Why don't you just drop it? It isn't compulsory…_

The library light is flickering again. _I'm fine,_ he says shortly. _Besides, it seemed interesting._ Severus likes academics. It feels productive, honest, all quiet hard work. You receive what you've earned – most of the time, anyway.

The flame in the flickering candle is dancing. Severus is too tired to properly focus on anything. He wonders how it must feel like to be the flame at the tip of the candle, all tightly wound particles and quivering energy and blissful, beautiful heat.

 _Sev_.

Lily puts her hand on Severus' upper back, and Severus feels everything concentrated there, nerves awakening and jangling lightly. Lily smiles at him, tentative, the corners of her mouth arching softly up.

The first time he kisses Lily, he doesn't actually know better than to press his mouth so hard against Lily's it actually hurts. Lily catches his head in surprise but does not quite push him away, and as Severus leans forward, he tilts her head with one hand, presses her awkwardly into the line of books behind them. Tingles spark through Severus' stomach every time Lily's tongue slides against his and he can barely breathe with how wet, how eccentric it all feels. He pulls Lily a little closer, cups the back of Lily's head, strokes slightly trembling fingers down her neck.

They break apart and everything looks glassy, as though coated in a sheen of snow. Lily smiles nervously at Severus, cheeks flushed.

Severus meets Potter on her way out of the library. Potter sneers and scowls, stalking past him with unnecessary force. Severus knows that Potter is looking for Lily. He always looks for Lily, always harasses her in unbelievably rude ways, ways Severus thinks Lily Evans will never stoop low enough to deserve. Why else will he ever set foot in the library? Potter does not need to work at all to get Os in all her exams, because not even academics can be truly democratic when it comes to people like Potter and Black.

Severus thinks of what might have happened if he had walked in just a minute earlier, what he would have seen, what he would have done. Black and Potter are the leaders of their little gang; Potter just wants everything under his thumb, under his hot-tempered gaze that possesses the maturity of a wilful toddler. Lily just another of his conquests, someone he has not managed to control yet (because she's Lily, Lily, _Lily_ , of _course_ ). Severus imagines the look on his face, thinks of the expression of shocked, shocked horror.

It gives him a sense of lightheadedness.

—

"You've been spending a lot of time with Evans, Severus." Evan Rosier's eyes are narrowed in suspicion. His tone is formal, clipped, like it is before a disagreement.

Severus folds the last set of his freshly ironed robes, lays them carefully in his trunk. He looks up.

"Well, we are Prefect partners. And it's not like I've never studied with her before."

Evan's hands are fisted in the shirt he is holding. The lines of his fingers, neck and body are sharp and strong. The bedside lamp illuminates the scar on his shoulder, left from the hex he had taken for Severus since second year when they'd first become friends, as silently and coolly as one could possibly be under an older Gryffindor's Stinging Curse.

"We aren't great friends or anything," Severus says. "Not as much as before, anyway. Slytherin honour and all." Inexplicably, he thinks of Lily's legs, brushing up against his as they sat a little too closely together in the library, of Lily's fingers, curled just not tightly enough in his hair as they kissed tentatively against bookshelves, of the long, slow arch of Lily's back against his hands, of Lily, Lily, _Lily_.

He looks up at Evan, smirks a little.

"She does well in classes, and isn't bothered about sharing notes and discussing ideas. You know how I get about academics. That's all."

Evan sighs and resumes the folding of his own clothes, movements rather jerkier than necessary.

"She's a Mudblood, Severus."

"I know that."

"She could be up to something! You can't trust Gryffindors, especially not _Mudbloods_."

Severus sets his clothes down.

"She's not like the rest of them," he says, his mouth dry, throat knotted and tight. "Not really. She still makes a good prefect, see."

Evan stares at her for a moment, silent. "Severus," he repeats, slightly more gently, his eyes ablaze with all sorts of meaning. "Severus, she's a Gryffindor Muggleborn."

"I know."

Severus is friends with Lily, of course — and recently, a little more than just friends, though no one else knows. They Prefect together and study in that dusty corner of the library with each other almost every other day. They are not quite friends, though, not in the way Lily is friends with Mary McDonald and Marlene McKinnon and even Remus Lupin. They don't have that loud, bright happiness, that laughter, that ever-comfortable intimacy that Severus envies, just a little.

When they were young, Lily used to pick flowers from the bushes in the woods near Spinners' End and weave them into crowns which she placed on Severus' head. Severus didn't even know of the existence of some of those plants — great red flowers bursting in bloom, magical orange orchids that smelled of the forest, the freedom of the wilderness — before Lily's expert hands picked them out from the deep bushes. Now, Lily is a Gryffindor who just happens to be too awfully nice and polite to everyone, even Slytherin scum like Severus Snape.

Sometimes, it is too easy to forget who Lily really is.

Evan is banging around the dormitory, gathering up his things and throwing them into a bag.

"Well, whatever. I wanted to tell you that Avery wants to have a meeting tomorrow. All fifth-to-seventh-year Slytherins. You're going, right?" There is a glint in his eyes now as he turns expectantly toward Severus.

Severus has heard of these meetings between Slytherin older students, packed away in corners of the library, talking in fervent whispers about things bigger than Hogwarts, greater than life. Politics is what Evan thinks they discuss. Severus thinks he understands what is behind it, mostly. He wonders if she should be anxious, because sometimes, the coldly knowing expectancy in the stares Avery and Mulciber shoot him at times is a little unnerving. Nevertheless, it is all really quite exciting, to teeter on the threshold of something bigger, something that might make a difference to life as everyone knew it.

He lies down, draws his curtains shut. He thinks of Lily and Potter, and Lupin.

"Yes, of course I'm going," he says, grins a little. He can almost see Evan grin back into the dark.

—

Potter and Black like to sneer at Severus whenever they walk past, hands twitching in half-tension, muttering silent curses. Pettigrew trails behind like the anxious follower he is, and Lupin mostly just ignores it all. In these instances, Severus finds it most convenient to pretend that these Gryffindors do not exist — fingers half-clenched around his wand, though, just in case they try something. He has no desire to get into any Muggle fist fights with Black and Potter.

At breakfast, though, he chances a look at the Gryffindor table, at where Lily and Lupin are sitting together, sharing a jug of pumpkin juice and laughing at some joke — unheard from the Slytherin table. Lupin's arm is slung casually over Lily's shoulders. Lily's head is thrown back, one hand flapping near her laughing mouth. The sunlight streaming in through the windows catches her forehead and silvers the top of her head. She talks energetically, and Severus notices a glint in her eyes, an odd shine she has not seen before.

Severus looks back and forth between Lily and Lupin, and Potter who is sitting just a few seats away, no doubt laughing at the same joke.

Severus narrows his eyes and looks away.

—

Hogsmead weekend dawns wet and dreary. Rain rattles the panes of glass in windows and turns the courtyard into a muddy mess. Nevertheless, students chatter excitedly as they file out of the entrance hall, cloaks bundled over their robes, hats bobbing along. Lily waves goodbye to her friends from the Great Hall, snorts at Potter's attempts to forcefully drag her out into the rain.

Severus catches her as she makes her way up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, blocks her path, wraps one arm around her and kisses her without preamble.

They are at a bend in the staircase, open and exposed for anyone to see. Severus pulls Lily close to him, fingers curling around Lily's waist. Lily's hair is ruffled, her cheeks flushed, her scarf askew. She slides a hand up Severus' back, and Severus kisses her so hard it actually hurts.

He brings Lily to a secret room on the seventh floor, along the corridor of Barnabas the Barmy. They snog against the wood-paneled wall, Lily's back against the warmed, smooth surface, her leg curled around Severus' calf. Severus presses hesitantly against her, vaguely tastes breakfast and something flowery. The rain sloshes down the rafters outside, thunder booming in the distance, and if he doesn't know better, he'll think that in this secret room, Lily's touch leaves permanent marks wherever they touch, fiery trails blazing over his skin even after they part. Everything feels surreal.

Lily stretches her legs out on the single bed, leans against the headboard and props History of the Dark Arts against the bunched covers. Severus leans his head against Lily's shoulder. He feels the moment breathe through the air like softly curling incense, or something gentler, like the flowery lightness of Lily's hair. Nothing much is said after that. Severus whiles the morning away reading History of the Dark Arts with Lily, tucked against Lily's arms as thick rivulets of rain stream down the the windows, blurring the outer landscape into a grey sea. He falls into shallow, fitful sleep to the gentle rhythm of Lily's breathing, Lily's thumb stroking idle patterns into his skin.

—

The candles in the library are dimming. Lily packs her books and parchment carefully into her bag, stands and stretches.

 _You coming_ _tomorrow_ _? We haven't actually reached a conclusion about how Switching Charms work. It's all your fault for sidetracking so much!_

Severus doesn't pause. _Can't. I have this study session with my Housemates. Sorry._

Lily freezes mid-stretch and slowly lowers her head. _Since when have you studied with your Housemates?_

 _It's a big study group that includes most fifth-to-seventh year Slytherins. Pretty useful, I guess — bigger group of people you can discuss things with._

Lily does not move except to chew on her lower lip, her bag forgotten on the floor by her feet. Severus fancies he can hear her mind whirring, struggling for something, anything.

 _See you, Lily_ , he says shortly, pushes his chair in and makes to leave.

He feels a little strange, a little disoriented at the sudden, strange shift in mood. Altogether, though, it is one of the — not uncommon — times when it's impossible for him to endure a single more moment with Lily. He knows the cause only too well, even if Lily doesn't, yet.

Severus knows that he and Lily are not meant to be. He just does not let himself think about it, much.

—

Severus finds it almost funny, the way things have panned out, the way one word — one precarious, crimson word that shines obscenely in the sun when he closes his eyes — just marks the end of everything. Closure. _Finite_.

It has always been ridiculous, he supposes. Perhaps not right from the start, and perhaps not always, but still there in the backdrop, in the messy, chaotic spaces in corners of Severus' mind that visit him at night and prod at his shoulder when he's alone. He could never trust Lily with who he really was, who he has now become — the earlier incident has demonstrated that well and truly enough. The spaces between him and Lily are always a little too jagged, a little too sandy and more than a little too nebulous, rattling his nerves and opening all the unreasonable, sour corners of his mind.

He feels infinitely more relaxed around his housemates, around Mulciber and Rosier and the younger but astoundingly intelligent Regulus Black. He thinks that the niggling unease, the anxiety of a fish out of water that he feels when he is not with them is all real, and should really be treasured, continued now lest he loses his mind.

Yet it is Lily Evans without whom he feels like he cannot breathe. And it does not make sense whatsoever.

—

Remus is sitting on Marlene's bed in the girls' dormitory, playing a game of Exploding Snap with Mary and Peter. Lily looks on, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate, and James is trying to chat Marlene up in front of her, though her only reaction is simply a roll of the eyes.

"You absolute cheat, Pete!" Marlene yells suddenly as a card explodes in her face and singes her eyebrows. "Really didn't think you could —"

Her voice is interrupted by a deafening _crash_ as Sirius bursts into the dormitory. One look at him and Remus knows that something is terribly wrong. Every line in Remus' body is tensed, almost trembling, and rage has distorted his face into a snarling, ugly thing. He breathes hard, fists clenched so hard by his sides his knuckles are white.

"Sirius," Remus says, getting to his feet and crossing over. "Sirius — what —"

Sirius stands, breathing hard, body tipped on bursting point, some of the veins in his arms bulging alarmingly.

Then, as though he can no longer stand, can no longer bear one more moment of silence —

"He took the mark!" he bursts out. " _Regulus took the fucking Dark Mark with Snape and Avery and the rest!_ "

There is a _crash_ as Lily drops her mug. Remus' mouth falls open. He puts a hand on Sirius' shoulder, trying to calm him. Sirius is getting into one of his dangerously reckless moods, the ones that will make him wreck the entire dormitory if Remus does not do anything soon.

"I'm sorry," he says, and means it. "Your family's always been… darker than most, but… never thought he'd really do it."

"Thought so too, didn't I?" Sirius grinds out. "Thought he at least had some sense in her even after he refused to run away with me. Now he's getting mixed up with Avery and Snape and —" His eyes widens. "Snape! Bet it was him who made him join along with them. I'll kill him — I'll —"

Sirius makes a sudden movement toward the door, but Remus forcibly holds him still. He curses and struggles violently in Remus' grip, and James looks shell-shocked from the other side of the room. Mary and Peter are staring.

"You alright, Lily?" Remus hears Marlene ask, concerned. "Were you friends with Regulus?"

Lily hastily repares her mug, sets it, slightly shaking, on her bedside table.

"Not Regulus, no…" she says, sighs. "But I think I'll go to bed now."

—

 _Falling in love is never easy_

' _Cause they're so good, I'm so bad, so let's get ugly_

—

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